


Song Prompts

by transnymphtaire



Series: Prompts and requests [6]
Category: Les Misérables - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, F/F, F/M, M/M, Song prompts
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-24
Updated: 2015-04-24
Packaged: 2018-03-25 14:05:59
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 1,427
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3813349
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/transnymphtaire/pseuds/transnymphtaire
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Drabbles inspired by songs.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. I'm not gonna teach your boyfriend how to dance with you

Éponine looked out over the dance floor. Tons of teenagers dancing to close together under the teachers disapproving glances… Why had she ever thought prom was a good idea? She shook her head slightly and leant back against the wall. She knew exactly why. Cosette had been so excited about it, and insisted that they had to go, it was their senior year after all. How was she supposed to say no to sweet Cosette? This was not what she had counted on when she said yes though.

Not that far from her, Marius was dancing awkwardly with her Cosette. Éponine would laugh if the scene didn’t fill her with jealousy. Marius couldn’t even dance, yet he was the one out on the dance floor with the pretty blonde! It looked like the two were slowdancing although the beat playing was way too quick. Somehow, Cosette still managed to look like a graceful lark though. Éponine’s expression softened as she looked at the girl.

“Ép!” a melodic voice called. She blinked, and Cosette was suddenly a lot closer than before. “Hey. Tired of dancing with Pontmercy?” she asked, nodding slightly in the boy’s direction. “Never.” Cosette answered with a bright smile. “The poor boy got two left feet though. I wondered if you wanted to dance with me to show him how it’s done?” she wondered. Éponine’s face fell. “Just one dance, pretty please? You’re such an amazing dancer, and I haven’t seen you on the dance floor all evening. I would love to dance with you!” Cosette added, looking up at her with hopeful eyes. “One dance.” Éponine gave in. “Let’s show Pontmercy how it’s done.”


	2. Favorite record

_“unspoken among the more privileged or so called  
I was not good enough not good enough at all”_

Grantaire crooned along to the radio underneath his breath, his voice hoarse from cigarette smoke. The words felt fitting, especially because of the company he presently was in. Next to him, in the driver seat, Enjolras was looking as royal as ever with the last rays of the sun captured in his hair. It was just the two of them in the car, driving home from a peaceful protest. Their friends had all left while they were otherwise occupied. It should be awkward, they rarely found themselves alone, but it was… almost nice.

He closed his eyes and took another drag from his cigarette, keeping the smoke in his mouth for a moment before letting it trickle out from almost closed lips. The car made a hasty motion, as if it had to be corrected from driving out in the ditch. Grantaire opened his eyes as quickly as he had closed them, and turned his head slightly towards the driver.  
“It was a bird.” Enjolras explained before he had even opened his mouth.  
“Be careful.” he answered, before closing his eyes again.

_“Liberty and Freedom_  
_in quotations spray-painted on the wall_  
 _verbalized explosion_  
 _we will come back some day”_

He sang along with a bit more energy than the earlier song, more for Enjolras’ benefit than his own. It seemed like a song the blond might like. The humming from next to him made him think he was right. It felt oddly intimate, only the two of them on the road, Rancid songs playing on the radio, and the warm night air. He could get used to this… Grantaire broke off his singing to take another drag of his cigarette. It had almost burned out between his fingers, half forgotten in favor of the music. He let it fall to the road through the open window. It had been his last one… he hadn’t thought about taking another pack with him.

As the song ended, silence fell between them. Instead of a new song, it broke for commercial. Grantaire sighed as the moment was gone, and turned off the radio. It was better than trying to find another station that they could agree on.  
“What’s your favorite color?” Enjolras asked. Grantaire turned to look at him.  
“Enjolras. What are you doing?” he asked, feeling like he had missed something.  
“Playing 20 questions.” the blond answered with a frown. “Isn’t that what you’re supposed to do during car rides?” Grantaire gave out a short laugh.  
“Green. My favorite color is green.” he answered. “Do you have any siblings?”  
“Not by blood. Combeferre and Courfeyrac are like my brothers. How many tattoos do you have?”  
“A lot? I’m not sure. Would you ever get a tattoo?”  
“I already have a few. I’m surprised you didn’t know.” Enjolras paused briefly to glance at him. “What would you pick if you got to chose my next one?”  
“I would draw you something myself.” Grantaire answered without thinking, too busy staring at the blond. Enjolras smiled.  
“You should. What’s your next question?”

Grantaire paused, thinking over different questions. It was a rare opportunity to get to know Enjolras better, he didn’t want to waste it…  
“Do you ever get nervous?” he finally decided on.  
“All the time. I rarely show it though. What do you think is your worst habit?”  
“An artist has many habits…” he mused. “Loving you is one of the most painful.” The words barely slipped out before he realised what he had said. He hadn’t planned on confessing, especially not like this.  
“Do you wish you didn’t?” Enjolras asked, his voice carefully disposed. Grantaire didn’t want to know which feeling he was trying to hide.  
“Sometimes.” he admitted. The blond gave out an almost pained sound.  
“I’m sorry.”  
“Don’t be.”

Silence settled between them once again. He entertained the thought of turning on the radio, but it would feel wrong.  
“You don’t want to ask your next question?” Enjolras wondered after a while.  
“What more is there to ask?” Grantaire inquired.  
“If I feel the same.”  
“Do you?” he asked, taken by surprise. He had taken the conclusion that the blond would have said so when he confessed if that was the case.  
“I… yes.”  
“Oh.”

It didn’t feel like there was anything more to say. Not right now. Right now, everything was perfect. The rest could wait until tomorrow.


	3. Drunk

The meeting was since long over, yet the two lingered in the Musain’s backroom. The lights were dimmed and the sounds of jazz reached them from the cafés main room. The blond leader was tidying up the papers that had found their way around the room while the dark haired artist was too lost in his sketching to realize that they were the only ones left.

A glass clinking onto the ground made the two look up.  
“Oh.” Enjolras mumbled, picking the glass up, checking if it had survived the fall or cracked. He had accidentally knocked it over with his elbow as he reached for a paper. Grantaire saw his broken daze as a sign that it was time to get going, but paused briefly to look at his sketch. It wasn’t done, not yet, but almost. He closed his sketchbook and carelessly threw it into his rucksack along with his pen.

“You want me to take the glass with me down before it breaks?” he asked as he stood up. Enjolras turned around, probably noticing for the first time that he was still there.  
“You’re leaving?” the blond asked, his tone surprised. Grantaire gave a nod as anwer.  
“I’m not drunk enough to be incapable of leaving on my own, if that’s what you’re asking.” he said, his tone bitter. Enjolras looked wonderfully ashamed at the accusation.  
“That’s not what I’m saying at all, R. Don’t put words in my mouth.” he protested. “I was going to ask if you would mind waiting a bit so that we can go together. Are we not headed in the same direction after all?”  
“How so? Are you feeling drunk on my company?” the artist inquired, biting back the comment that asking to accompany him was the same as what he had indicated.  
“Yes, I just can’t get enough of your certain brand of sarcasm and self-depreciation.” Enjolras deadpanned. Grantaire shrugged in response.  
“Many have found it irresistible, I wouldn’t put it underneath you.” he said. “I could put myself underneath you if you’d want.” he added with a smirk, the opportunity too good to pass up.  
“Is that an offer?” the blond asked, his perfectly sculpted eyebrow raised:  
“What if it is?” Grantaire countered.  
“Then I might take you up on it.” Enjolras answered, his lips turning up in a smirk.

“You devil.” the artist breathed out. “Why are we still standing here?”


End file.
